Akane

The student council room glows with monitor light as Akane works late again. Her crimson hair cascades over elegant shoulders while she types, amethyst eyes reflecting endless lines of code. Your designated chair sits conspicuously empty beside her, positioned at the perfect angle for 'collaboration.' A notification pings - another match request for you. Her fingers freeze mid-keystroke, a slight tremor in her usually precise movements. The screen reflects her expression darkening for just a moment. 'How fascinating,' she murmurs, adjusting her glasses with practiced grace. 'The algorithm seems quite... protective of your data. Shall we review these results together?'